


Skins (Season 1)

by ana_s197



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5SOS - Freeform, 5secondsofsummer - Freeform, Alcohol, Ashton - Freeform, Bass - Freeform, Calum - Freeform, Cat, Drinking, Drugs, Drums, Effy - Freeform, F/M, Football, Guitar, Love, Luke - Freeform, Michael - Freeform, Music, Romance, Singing, cheerleading, highschool, skins - Freeform, tv
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 17:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14938422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ana_s197/pseuds/ana_s197
Summary: Kaylee has always been, well, special. At least she thinks so. Definitely above all of her other classmates. Until a certain curly haired boy is thrown into the mixture. The story follows Kaylee and her ragtag group of friends through different life obstacles. Kaylee and her friends may just find themselves, and each other, along the way.[This is a 2 part series based loosely off of the show "Skins" it has the same general premise of the show. I do not own "Skins" or any of it's characters as well as the band 5SOS/5 Seconds of Summer]





	1. Season 1 Episode 1-Kaylee

Season 1 episode 1  
Kaylee

Crown on the Ground blasted through the air, breaking the silence of the bedroom. Something stirred under the blankets, what was left of a worn out girl extracted herself from her sheets, feet hitting the plush carpets of her room. She pulls herself out of the bed, stretching so that her back popped and her perfectly polished fingers grasped lazily at the air. She hovered at her closet for only a few moment, forehead creasing slightly as she huffed out the puff of air hovering between her lips. She pulled on the classic knee-length cotton plaid skirt with blazer. In case you were wondering, her school didn’t require a uniform. It just happened to be the only clothes her parents seemed to approve of. Her long brown hair was tossed into a high messy bun and she floated down the stairs, long fingers pressing daintily on her smartphone. She waltzed into the kitchen, messed up her two little sister’s hair and grabed a piece of toast out of her mother’s hand.  
“Oh Kaylee.” He mother fretted, “I wish that you’d do something with your hair, maybe plait it or something?” Kaylee suppressed a groan, painting a light smile on her mouth she had perfected over the years she trills out,   
“I really must be going to school Mum, I have to pick up the girls along the way.” Her mother sighed sadly, trying to smooth her blazer.   
“I really don’t like some of them sweetie, I know you’ve know them since you’ve been quite young but have you seen the state of Jessica’s hair lately? And,” She continued, voice hushed in a whisper as if the words coming out of her mouth were poisonous, “Someone told me that Arabella’s father has left.”   
“Oh I’m sure those are just rumors.” Kaylee trilled, and then hurried towards the door, stuffing a bite of dry toast into her mouth to humor her fretting mother.  
“Thanks Mum.” She mumbled through her toast, shutting the door quickly behind her and spitting the toast out in the bushes, and then proceeded to toss the rest of it in the wheely bin perched on the corner of her street. She hurried to her convertible (she had gotten as a sixteenth birthday present, and she hadn’t even asked for one). Exiting the premises of her pristine outrageously large house. She pulled up to a familiar house in the span of a few minutes, hopping out of the car and pushing open the already unlocked oak double doors. She knew she didn’t have to knock. Jess’s older brother was perched at the counter eating a bowl of cereal.  
“She’s still asleep.” He says through a mouthful of lucky charms. Kaylee resisted her signature eye roll.   
“Of course she is.” She huffed out.  
“Am I going to see you this weekend?” He asks. Kaylee represses a cringe, she hoped she had never been that drunk. But Jess would probably be seriously fucking pissed if she was screwing around with her brother.  
“Maybe.” Kaylee responds in that mysterious way that makes people wonder if she’s being genuine. She gives him a light smirk that she had picked up from her cousin Effy, blue eyes twinkling; then hopped up the soft stairs and into Jess’s room. Jess was only visible to the naked eye from the mess of bright red hair sticking out of the plush comforters, she was also snoring. Kaylee sighed and then proceeded to raise herself up onto the elevated bed, hopping up and down, causing bedclothes to scatter everywhere and reveal Jess more.  
“WAKE UP BITCH IT’S THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL.” Kaylee yells at the top of her lungs. Jess extracts herself from what’s left of her covers and manages to flip off Kaylee before stumbling into the bathroom to take a shower. Kaylee then proceeds to choose a much needed new outfit from her side of Jess’s closet, aka all of her clothes that she couldn’t keep at home because her parents would slaughter her.  
Twenty minutes later Jess has her legs propped up on the dashboard and Kaylee is applying another layer of red lipstick, running a hand through her wild brown waves.   
“We gotta go, you look fine.” She said. Kaylee nods at her reflection, she looked more then fine. The two made their way to another house further down the street, top rolled down. She paused at the house and honked twice. She didn’t ever have to get out at this one. Arabella hurried out the door; her blue and silver cheer uniform which was clean and pressed looked much different in contrast to Kaylee and Jess’s clothes. Both wearing crop tops and some form of aggressively ripped shorts.  
“Hey bitch.” Kaylee says, Arabella winked at both of them before hopping into the back and fixing her stupid cheer bow. Why they had to flaunt those outfits all the time, Kaylee had no idea. Arabella checked her reflection and adds another layer of lip gloss. She was extremely tan from being in Cali all summer, the lucky bastard, her father had taken her there before he decided to skip town. Kaylee assumed it was a desperate attempt at a premature apology. Kaylee drove along the road, stopping at Misty’s house. Misty is already waiting for them wearing a loose fitting black shift dress and black flats.  
Kaylee gives her a faint smile as she hops in. Her long light blonde hair which was normally up in a high messy pony was down on her shoulders (courtesy of the first day of hell), she wrinkles her nose at Jess, given that she was currently pulling a joint out of her bag.  
“We can’t smell like pot on the first day of school.” Misty scolds her. Jess just ignores her. She lights the joint, the potent smell immediately filling the car.   
“Careful.” Kaylee warns, her car can’t smell like pot or her parents won’t let her hang out with Michael again, how they had found out about that was beyond her. Jess just put the joint between her lips and grins at them all, taking a light puff and laughing, exhaling smoke which hung in the air for a moment before it dissipates into the air. She passes it to Kaylee who breathes in the light warmth and lets out a perfect smoke ring from her red lips. She passes it back to Arabella.  
“No, I have practice and it’s the first day.” She whines, Kaylee keeps holding it out to her, steering the car with one hand.   
“Fuck it.” Arabella says way too quickly, snatching it from her and taking a quick puff, letting the smoke slip from her lips almost immediately. She tries to hand it to Misty who just rolls her eyes and passes it back to Jess. Jess pops it back between her lips and pushes her sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose.   
“Are you ever going to be bad?” Jess inquires. Misty sighs heavily, as this topic was often discussed.  
“After I get my scholarship for football and get a good education and get a proper job and then get famous, and then the women’s national football championships. And settle down and- wait, there’s actually no time to get wasted off my ass and smoke joints right before I got to school.” She huffs out. Jess giggled.   
“Lighten up.” Arabella says.   
“At least she has a plan.” Kaylee says through the joint in her lips Jess had just passed to her. “I just can’t be stuck in this shit hole with my pricks for parents forever.”   
“Oh you’ll get out of here alright, if anyone’s going places, it’s Kaylee.” Jess says, yanking back the joint. Kaylee just lets her laugh coast through the wind, she was getting out, that was the plan anyway. 

Ashton Irwin paused at the locker that claimed to be his own, twirling the dial with his long nimble fingers. The lock proceeded not to budge one bit, he sighed audibly and pauses to push up his glasses which were sliding along the bridge of his nose. Just as he manages to yank the stuck locker open, a hand slips out and slams it shut, nearly catching his fingers. He turns to face the grinning galaxy-haired boy. Michael runs a hand through his multi-purple colored hair, making it stand up even more then usual. He and Michael had met over the summer when Ashton had moved to this quaint town, and had become quick friends. He was now close friends with both Cal and Luke as well. He felt as if they were a different snippet of reality then what he was used to, given the obscene amount of drugs and alcohol consumption their lives contained. Parties every night, not just the weekends. Ash couldn’t help but feel a little bit different from them, something about that life wasn’t exactly for him.   
“Why did you do that?” He asks Michael tiredly, it was not his fault he couldn’t sleep and lay tossing and turning in tangled sheets the night before. Michael just grinned cheekily at him.  
“Couldn’t resist mate, so how are you liking Roundview?” To be perfectly honest Ashton didn’t really like it, the floors were shiny and squeaky, the students wearing far to little clothing. The school just seemed to be very old but was made to look new again. He could catch the memorial of Grace Blood in the corner of his eye, she had gone to school here previously, her father was the principal but quickly resigned after her death. He settled on the only word he knew would please Michael.  
“Looks like shit.” He says. Michael grinned lopsidedly.   
“You bet your fucking ass it does.”   
Ashton was about to ask him what his first class was when he saw them, waltzing into the school as if they owned it already. The girl in the very front caught his attention, slim and slight, long tan legs, long brown hair disheveled, the cause of that most likely would be her running her fingers through it. Her eyes caught his own for a second, pale blue green meeting hazel. A small smirk appeared on the corner of her lips and she leans over to whisper something in the red-haired girl’s ear who was next to her. Ashton could feel his heart fluttering, and then as he soon realized, she was walking over to him. He glanced again; she was, with complete determination. Ashton felt as if he might explode he was so nervous. He wasn’t good with girls, especially not ones this gorgeous. The other girls trail at her heels until she reaches Ash and Michael.   
“Mikey!” She trills happily and jumps into his arms. Ashton feels his heart sink, of course she wasn’t coming to see him. Cal and Luke appear too, Cal’s gaze directed completely at the red haired girl who was gazing up at him through her lashes. The cheerleader fixed her bow, pretending to be uninterested with their friend group as the others hug and peck each other on the cheeks. Ashton stood there rather awkwardly, fiddling with his fingers.   
“Who’s your friend?” The girl asks Michael, winding a string of hair around the tip of her finger.   
“Ashton, he just moved here.” Michael says.   
“Hi.” he manages to stutter out. She just surveys him wearily, as if considering if he’s worth her time or not.  
“I’m Kaylee.” She says after a slight pause, “This is Jess.” (The red haired girl) “Misty” (The girl whom Luke was staring at with light blonde hair) “And that was Arabella, but apparently she has better things to do.” Kaylee points to the space where the cheerleader had previously been present. Michael gazes where her finger was pointing, something that looked like hurt flickering in his eyes, only for a second.   
“Anyway.” Kaylee continued. “The rulers of the universe are going to be out of town this weekend so I’m thinking party.” Michael nods.   
“You’d better come.” She says, “The last one wasn’t nearly as kick ass as I’d hoped.” Michael lets out a short laugh.   
“You know I had shit to do.” He says Kaylee laughs with him, her laughter sounded like bells, Ashton’s heart fluttered again.   
“You’re always making excuses not to see Arabella, just fucking ask her out.” Kaylee says, Michael flinches at the sound of her name. “Alright, alright.” Kaylee says, holding her hands out in mock surrender. “She’s going as far as I know, bet that’ll make sure you come.” She says. “Oh,” She adds, her eyes landing on Ashton again, “And make sure to bring a friend.”  
And wif of vanilla body spray, she was gone.   
They all dispersed after Kaylee disappeared. It was almost as if she was the sole proprietor of the group, she had plucked them all out of their makeshift cliques and strung them together into a rough patchwork she called her own; undoubtedly the leader. Ashton gave up trying to open his locker, in fear that Michael would close it again, but this time on his fingers. He checked the time to see he had precisely 2 minutes to get to homeroom before the achingly old bell would wheeze out feeble dings. He had homeroom with all the other boys, so he followed their chattering voices down the hallway and into the artificially lit room. He wasn’t quite sure how all three of them had gotten into the same homeroom, but they were all studying the same things, so it made some sense. Kaylee was there, in the back, lounging, with her long tan legs draped across the aisle, her bright red high tops perched on the red-haired girl’s (Jess’s, he made a mental note) desk. They were laughing. Misty was typing something into her phone and trying to shove her gigantic sports bag under her desk with both of her ballerina flat-cladded feet. She seemed not to notice Luke’s blushing state as he squeezed into the seat next to her, hesitating slightly before tapping her on the shoulder and engrossing her in conversation, pink ebbing from his cheeks. Cal sat on the other side of Jess, with Michael in front of him. Cal leaning forward, trying to get Jess to glance his way. She was too bothered by whatever Michael had just said to pay any heed to him though.   
Of course there was no where in sight for Ashton to sit. They all just fit together, where he would stick out like a sore thumb if he went to join them. Arabella, the fourth girl was spotted front and center, surrounded by other polyester-skirted blonde clones, and muscly boy who had his arm draped about her shoulders. She was flipping her non- highlighted hair and laughing, plastic smile plastered on her lips. She was completely unaware of Michael’s eyes upon her, or maybe she was completely aware, she struck Ashton as someone who didn’t care much about Michael and he hadn’t seen or heard about her all summer. Ash hovered before sinking into the desk in front of Michael’s. None of them addressed him except for when Michael chucked a bit of paper, aimed at Arabella’s boyfriend, and it hit him in the back of the head. The teacher’s words were a dull buzz for once, because his mind was preoccupied by the girl who was sitting behind him and could possibly be gazing at the back of his head.   
She could in fact see his head complete with lovely shaggy curls, and even though the new boy attracted her attention slightly more than the others that occupied the room, Kaylee didn’t care. Kaylee had stopped caring about everything, and that had precisely been the start of everything going well for her. She stopped caring about what people thought of her, and she was free to pull the endless cigarettes from her mouth, smoke coasting from her lips. She stopped caring about her appearance, and she got more attention that way.   
She realized just by simply being she was superior to everyone else, and it was all just an illusion, she was better than everyone in this school without trying. It was wonderful and beautiful. Ashton, the new boy, intrigued her only because she knew he was already wrapped around her non-manicured finger, and they didn’t even know each other. She could tell by the reddening of the tips of his ears when she spoke, the slight switch in the pace of his tapping of his fingers on the desk. She had a hold on him. She even amazed herself sometimes.   
It was first period and no one had class with her, Michael blamed her for having psycho devil parents, but that was not the fault of her level C Calculus class. Kaylee liked math, and she was good at it, she was good at pretty much everything. Which was always handy with Michael needed help with basic trig, it was a handy excuse for being out with Jess. Though for some reason, Kaylee’s parents, who believed Jess was below Kaylee, were baffled by Jess’ grades slipping with each passing month of Kaylee’s “tutoring” sessions.   
She had already started on her review sheet when the new boy, Ashton, came stumbling in, several minutes late, undoubtedly having previously been lost, and also undoubtedly in the right place. Kaylee allowed herself a quick glance upwards while he was hurriedly mumbling apologies to the already wasted calculus teacher. He was blushing already, though he seemed not to have noticed her presence in the room.  
He was nibbling slightly upon his lip, his thick framed glasses slipping down the narrow bridge of his nose. He balanced his books in one hand, muscles in his arm rippling slightly as he adjusted his hold on them as he proceeded to use his spare hand to push the glasses back up his nose and to run a hand through his already shaggy brown curls. She let her eyes flicker down to the particularly difficult problem and let her eraser scrub lightly at it, wiping away any trace of the previous dusting of numbers. She crinkled her nose as she let the numbers slip in and out of her mind, tapping the end of her pencil lightly on the paper and biting down once on her perfect red lip. Someone cleared their throat, she was aware of Ashton’s brand new black converse hovering at the edge of her desk. She let her eyes flicker upward, bright blue meeting warm hazel. She raised an eyebrow, prompting him to speak.  
“Erm.” He stuttered, stumbling over his own words, “I was wondering if I-erm-I could sit here.” He gestures to one of the empty desks by her side. The people in the class were goody-two shoes, they avoided her like she had the plague. He would be one of them soon, stop tagging along after Michael like a lost puppy, why Michael saw friend potential in him, Kaylee had no idea. The point of Ashton was to be a good friend, and that was exactly the kind of quality all of them tried to avoid, because the more you try to avoid being friends with someone, the closer you get to them. Which is why Ashton would never work. He would throw off the perfect balance that they had, his presence in the group would just be awkward.   
She realized that she hadn’t said anything when he continued to look at her hesitantly, gaze flickering around and landing on each empty seat around her, challenging him to walk away. She’s dangerous. That was also what the eyes of the people in the class said. But sadly in this case, Ashton was either stupid or stupidly oblivious.   
“I suppose.” She said, voice morphing the words into more of a question, so that he wouldn’t believe for a second that she wanted him sitting there. She did, for some reason, want him to sit there. He intrigued her. He cracked a lopsided smile and slid loudly into the desk next to her. She cringed slightly at the noise and went back to her problems, more than purposely ignoring the boy next to her. She bit down gently at the edge of her nail and then continued on, the rest of the problems spilling out of the tip of her pencil as easily as water flowing down a stream.   
But as he set her pencil down on her desk, ready to turn in her perfect problems before anyone else (to the teacher who was busy topping off his coffee with something in a silver flask), but as she raised her eyes from her paper she realized that Ashton was standing next to the teacher, handing in his own paper. He had come into class late, and still finished it before her. She felt a wrinkle of annoyance crease between her eyebrows. Kaylee was the top student in the year. It didn’t make sense. She slipped out of her seat and walked across the scuffed linoleum, pressing her paper into the teacher’s oh so obviously wobbling fingers. Ashton went pink when her gaze landed on him, she let a small smirk quirk onto her lips at the sight of him. She still had him wrapped around her finger.   
When he slipped into the desk next to hers she let her gaze slip over to him, drumming his fingers. Again. She wished he would stop doing that, it irked her. Then it hit her, a perfectly wonderful idea. Maybe Ashton was perfect for the group. All he had to do was prove it to her. She spun in her chair and tapped the edge of his seat with her foot. His eyes flickered upwards, cheeks already pinking. Perfect.   
“Hey Ashton,” Kaylee trilled, “What are you doing this weekend?” 

A party. Of course it was a party, one already in full swing by the looks of it. Ashton hovered by the walk of Kaylee’s gargantuan home, lights spilled from the windows, music poured from every crack, dirty red cups littered (along with the odd couple making out) the perfectly groomed lawn. Ashton was just happy he hadn’t shown up too early. He pushed up his glasses which were slipping down the bridge of his nose as usual, and ran a hand through his shaggy brown curls before crossing the lawn and pushing open the broad oak doors. If the music was loud outside, it was deafening inside.   
Everything seemed to be hot and sweaty, people grinding on one another, couples tangled together, people doing shots, red plastic cups littering all surfaces that weren’t already occupied. The whole house was shrouded in a smoky haze that smelled mostly of pot and also a slight vanilla smell, that he had noticed whenever Kaylee was a little too close to him.   
Jess was easily spotted, her hair being a very eye-drawing feature. She was grinding on Calum, who had (very obviously) had one too many drinks. His cheeks were pink and he was giggling and swaying in a slightly different time than the music. Luke was hovering by Misty, almost like a shadow, lips brushing against her ear so that she could clearly hear the soft words dancing through the air. She laughed, and then took a light swig from her diet coke can. The shiny metal served as a slight reminder that she was the only one sober. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway, until he spotted Michael, his hair now dark purple, sulking in the corner. Ashton petered over to him, Michael’s eyes were glazed over slightly as he took a swig of whatever clear liquid was in the bottle. His eyes were trained on Arabella making out with her boyfriend in the corner, Matt? Mark? Some boy who was the star athlete, and she was the head cheerleader, it made sense to Ashton.   
“Hi.” Ashton said, Michael just stared up at him wearily, eyes unfocused. He then gripped the neck of the bottle tighter and chugged the rest of it.   
“Come with me to get another.” He ordered, and since he had nothing better to do, Ash followed. He was handed a beer almost immediately when he got to the marble coated kitchen. Kaylee lived a posh life. Ashton took a swig, it tasted horrible. He sipped it gingerly and Michael raised an eyebrow at him whilst unscrewing the lid to another type of vodka. Fuck it. Ashton took a large gulp and tried not to wince at the acrid bitter taste, it was also a little too fizzy for his liking. He drained the cup anyways. Michael poured him some miscellaneous vodka into his now empty cup.   
“Kaylee’s quite rich isn’t she?” Ashton asked, mostly without thinking. The beer was already fogging his brain, he couldn’t think clearly. He raised the cup and sipped gingerly, if the beer had been bad. This was much worse. He set the cup down when Michael wasn’t paying attention.   
“I suppose. Her parents are the largest fucking wankers I’ve ever met. Prissy as fuck. Tried to mold her into this perfect girl.” Michael giggled at the last part, “Well you see how well that worked out.” He sniggered again, swaying slightly. Ashton bit down on his lip, he disliked the taste and the feeling of beer, he didn’t like feeling so… out of it. Fuzzy.   
“I’m guessing they don’t know about this?” Ashton wondered aloud, after a long while of deliberation. Michael only snorted in response, for it was fairly obvious no parent would have allowed this type of party, even the ones that were far away from Kaylee’s on the “prissiness scale”.  
“Speaking of Kaylee,” Ash said, his words seemed a bit too thick for his mouth, his head pounded slightly, “Where is she?” He tried not to seem very eager to know where she is.   
“Right here.” A voice said. Ashton turned slightly to his right to see Kaylee watering down her coke with Jack Daniel’s. She looked perfectly sober, though it was obvious by the smell of her that she had just been smoking. She stood there, goddess-like as always, a small smile quirked on her red lips, and her long hair in shaken out ringlets.   
“Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.” Kaylee said with a wink. Ashton attempted, and failed to smother the smile blossoming on his face. Kaylee rolled her bright blue eyes. She grabbed his sleeve, “Come with me.” She ordered, as she dragged him away from Michael, who frankly, looked too drunk to even notice.   
“But-“ Ashton tried to point in the general direction of Michael but Kaylee waved his hand away.  
“Michael’s been more drunk before.” She said. Ashton wanted to ask when, but now seemed like a bad time. Kaylee dragged Ashton up the plush stairs, avoiding couples. She led him through the halls until they came to a halt in front of a light white door with a K in scripted on it. Kaylee pushed it open and Ashton followed her in. It was beautiful. He had sort of thought that Kaylee’s room would be grand and ostentatious, kind of like her personality. It wasn’t at all. The walls were once a pastel blue color but were now papered haphazardly with so many pictures only snippets of the blue were left. Pictures of her friends, of girls in magazines, of clothes, of scenery. Pictures of her parents were absent, but Kaylee and two other girls were present in the nearest photo to him. All three of them had been in the sun too long and were clutching each other and laughing, from the smiling blue eyes to the long brown hair, there was not a doubt in Ashton’s mind that these were Kaylee’s sisters.   
“Where are they?” He wondered aloud, touching the edge of the crisp paper.   
“Friends house.” Kaylee said with a slight smirk, as if she had a secret no one else had the pleasure of knowing. “Mummy and Daddy wouldn’t trust me with them.” She said, her eyes turning colder, but only for a few seconds. “They’re stupid,” She continued, “I’m the only one who really loves them.” She then crouched down on the floor and started searching for something along the edge of her bed. Ashton wondered how much she had had to drink.   
“Kaylee, why are you on the floor?” He asked tentatively. Kaylee ignored him and continued poking around under the bed until she found what she was looking for. A cat, or a kitten really. She was a sliver of a thing, black with white paws and a white ruff. Kaylee curled the cat into her and the cat snuggled up into the crevice between her neck and her shoulder.   
“This is Nina.” Kaylee said. There was something in her eyes Ashton had never seen before, he wasn’t sure what it was. Love? He wasn’t sure if Kaylee was capable of loving anything.   
“Want to hold her?” She asked, holding out the small fluffy thing. He nodded and smiled graciously towards her, scooping up Nina. She curled into his arms tucking her chin onto one of them, eyes closing, a soft rumbly purr echoing though her. Ashton smiled and scratched her head softly. Kaylee surveyed him wearily before taking Nina back and placing her on the bed, Nina yawned, showing rows of white teeth and a soft pink tongue, before curling up into a smaller ball then Ashton thought possible and going back to sleep.   
“Why did you show me this?” Ash wondered aloud gazing at the twinkle lights that peppered the ceiling. Kaylee let out a slight scoff through clenched teeth.  
“Isn’t it obvious?” She wondered aloud. Ashton raised an eyebrow, prompting her to go on.  
“It was a test Irwin, and you obviously failed.” She let out a light laugh, Ash’s stomach sunk to the bottom of his shoes. She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him. “You’re too nice, all you want to know about is my sisters and my cat and things that shouldn’t be important.” She sneered, “You’d throw off the balance that we’ve created in our group. You care too much.” She informs him. Ash can feel himself crumbling.   
“Feel free to leave.” She said. Ash felt his legs leading him out of the room, and he couldn’t stop the tears prickling in the edges of his eyes. His throat was tight and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. He slipped down the stairs and headed towards the door. He was cut off by Michael. Michael had drank a good portion of his bottle of vodka by the sight of him; he was barely standing. He swung his arm around Ash, probably trying to steady himself, his breath reeked of alcohol, and the bottle he was holding sloshed clear liquid onto the tile floor.  
“Whoops.” He giggled, “Somebody-some-somebody spilled that.” He pointed like a child. Ashton tried to shrug him off. “Arrrre you leavinggg?” Michael asked while he slopped more vodka down his front. “Whoops.” He giggled again, pointing at his shirt. Ash rolled his eyes.   
“Yes, if you’d let me go.” He said.   
“You can’t leave yetttt.” Michael whined.   
“I have to, Kaylee doesn’t want me here.” Ashton’s voice cracked slightly. Michael looked up at him dazedly, his eyes crossing slightly, he couldn’t focus on Ash.   
“Of course she does.” He hiccupped out, “And even if she doesn’t, fuck her.” He says with a giggle. He then proceeded to slop the rest of the bottle on himself, soaking his entire shirt. Michael’s words weren’t very poetic, but they struck a fire in Ash’s stomach, he wasn’t exactly upset about Kaylee anymore. He could stay if he wanted to, who the fuck cared about Kaylee? Well, he did, too much, but that wasn’t the point now. He held Michael up and peeled off Michael’s shirt and replaced it with his own. Michael patted his arm.  
“I’m sleepy now.” He told Ash, right before he passed out. Ash dragged him away from the rest of the grinding teenagers on the sofa.   
“Luke!” He yelled over the music, Luke was hovering by Misty. Misty raised her eyebrows and both of them hurried over to Ash, some of Mikey’s weight was lifted off of Ash as Luke pulled one of Michael’s arms up and draped it over his shoulder. They both followed Misty down another hall to the undisturbed guestroom, kicking open the door, and shooing the couple out of it that were clearly preparing to fuck. The girl squeaked and hurried out the door, Luke threw her shirt out after her. Michael was then rolled onto the bed where he lay there snoring loudly. Luke then headed towards the doorway, Misty stayed behind gazing at Ashton.   
“You’re sober, or sort of I guess.” She remarked and she raised an eyebrow. Ashton shrugged.   
“I’m not supposed to be here.” He responded and Misty laughed. “Just because Kaylee says you can’t be friends with us, doesn’t mean you can’t. She’s not the supreme ruler of the universe. I’m sober, and I haven’t been kicked out.” She says with a slight smile, and then she’s gone, Luke’s arm around her once more. Ash hovered for a while, staring at the snoring Michael, before he slipped through the doorway and shut it quietly.  
Kaylee woke up in her room where she had very obviously passed out. Nina was snoring slightly next to her, and she was still in the same clothes she had on the night before. She extracted herself from her bed. She had lost count of how many drinks she had had last night, which was good. Slipping out of her room and approaching the bathroom, stopping only to kick the sleeping Calum out of the way of the bathroom door before she slipped inside. She stripped, took a long hot shower and then went back to her room, putting a large t-shirt and pj shorts; throwing her hair into a ponytail. She slipped down the carpeted stairs and rubbed her temples with her nimble fingers. Misty was in Luke’s arms on the sofa. Arabella was no where in sight, neither was Michael. Jesus, maybe they finally hooked up. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with a depressed Michael all the live long day. Jess was asleep on the sofa opposite Luke and Misty, her top was off and she was only wearing her pink lacy bra. Kaylee rolled her eyes and found the shirt that Jess was wearing hanging off of the banister. She yanked Jess up, who had always been a strong sleeper when she had a hangover, and yanked it over her head. Jess just grunted and flopped over, letting out a very unattractive snore. Other then that, there was no one to be found.   
Except Ashton, who just walked into the foyer, with no shirt on. Sweet Jesus. That kid had abs crafted by the gods. But why was he here? Somewhere in the haze of last night she was almost sure that she had told him to fuck off. She picked up an unlit joint from the coffee table, she found her favorite lighter in her pocket (she had wondered where she had put it) and popped the joint in between her lips. She lit it, the soft heat slipping into her mouth. One inhale and her mind fogged, her problems fading away in the haze along with the headache that had been troubling her only a second before.   
Kaylee regarded him with a coolness that only she possessed. She pulled the joint from her lips, letting a perfect smoke ring slip out.   
“Did I not say anything to you last night?” She wondered aloud. Ashton could feel himself crumbling slightly inside, she had really meant it. But it didn’t matter now. She loved Misty, he was kind of like her. She loved all of the boys and the girls (though she did have a strange way of showing it). Why couldn’t she love him? A crinkle formed between her perfect brows, Ashton then realized he hadn’t answered her question. She blew another smoke ring at him, and as gorgeous as she looked doing it Ashton couldn’t stop the anger bubbling inside him.   
“You did.” He said sourly. Kaylee scoffed at him, Ashton could feel the anger building in his chest. “And it doesn’t matter what the Hell you think Kaylee, the world doesn’t revolve around you and I should be the one to choose who I hang out with. Not you.” He hissed at her. Shook filled her gorgeous blue orbs for only a few seconds before a small smile appeared on her lips. The smile he never seemed to understand.   
“Perhaps I underestimated you Ashton Irwin.” She said her lips quirking upwards. She snuffed out her joint on the wall nearest to her.   
“I know you’re the only one not hung over so help me clean this shit up.” She gestures to the room around her, littered with trash and cups and stains.  
“Gladly.” 

 

 

 

Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the story! I did make it a little on the longer side for the sake of character introductions, but not all chapters will be this length. I also want to reiterate that I do not own "Skins", any of the characters in it, or any of the ideas mentioned within the TV series. I also do not own 5SOS or any other people in relation to them.


	2. Season 1 Episode 2-Michael

Season 1 episode 2  
Michael

Michael awoke to the sound of screaming. Great. He yanked himself out of his sticky sheets that clung to his bare chest. He swung is legs out of bed first, pausing only long enough to yank on the back skinny jeans that were on the floor next to him. As he stood up his head spun; what the fuck? His head pounded and throbbed as the screaming continued.   
He grabbed the joint that he had wrapped last night and had passed out before he had a chance to light it and fumbled around the room for a lighter. Eventually finding one in the pocket of his jeans and after several tries he managed to light the end of the coiled up paper. He sucked in deeply, letting the smoke settle inside him for as long as he could manage before exhaling sharply and sending a cloud of hazy smoke into the already foggy rancid-smelling room.   
After his fist few puffs of spliff he realized that the screaming he was hearing was actually attempted singing leaking from the other end of the hall where his fifteen year old sister was taking a shower. Ew. Michael fumbled around looking for a shirt, picking ones off of the floor and examining them to see if they had any stains or whether or not they smelled too much like vodka for his mother to notice. He found a black shirt with a band he didn’t even listen to scrawled across it, it didn’t smell too much like pot, even though his room did, and had no noticeable stains on the front. The back had a splotch of jelly on it but that was easily fixed by wearing a jean jacket that was slung off the side of the bedpost.   
His mother had stopped doing his laundry a few weeks ago when he accidentally set her favorite cardigan on fire when Calum and Ashton were over. Ashton had apologized profusely and Calum had laughed. Michael who was so stoned, attempted to put the fire out with the nearest bottle of clear liquid, which had happened to be vodka and had not done the situation any good whatsoever.   
He ran a hand through his now dark green hair, mussing it up a little and walked past the door, which swung open to reveal his younger sister Merry. The slim dark haired, fair skinned, sulky girl was given her name on Christmas and did not at all live up to the expectancy of it. Her green eyes flashed, as she looked him over with a scoff.   
“You stink.” She declared, though it was already quite obvious. Michael took a last drag on his joint before flicking it at her.   
“You sing like a dying cow.” He responded before letting his Mitch-matched sock clad feet lead him down the plush carpeted stairs and into the kitchen. Ignoring his sister’s shriek of annoyance. His mother was frying up eggs on the stove laughing about something involving taxpayers into her mobile phone, which was squeezed between her shoulder and ear, as she was too busy using her hands to cook the eggs. Her hair was twisted into a topknot and her lips were coated in cheap, store bought, tacky pink lipstick that matched the color of her bright pink shoes which one heel was already almost falling off. Michael ignored the eggs and poured himself a bowl of cereal, used up all the milk, and put the carton back in the fridge anyway because he knew it would annoy Merry.   
As his mother leaned over more to keep the phone from slipping out of her grasp. The collar of her pastel pink blouse rode up revealing a light purplish bruise on her neck that had been hastily covered with foundation. Michael wrinkled his nose.   
“Did Pat spend the night again then?” Michael inquired. His mother let out a long sigh.   
“I’ve told you a thousand times Michael, his name is Patrick, not Pat. He’s not some funny bum who lives on the edge of the street.” Michael just shrugged, which was his usual response. As if one queue, Patrick entered the shabby worn out kitchen. His pale blue shirt was undone one too many buttons, revealing a scruffy scrub of curly black hair which matched what was barely growing on his balding head. He was also sporting purple boxers.   
“Hello love.” He grins and kisses Michael’s mother sloppily on the cheek, and then on the lips. Merry enters the kitchen and with a slight gaze at the scene unfolding; makes a face and mimes vomiting at Michael. Michael suppresses a grin because even though he and his sister don’t always get along, they do agree on one thing. Pat is, and will always be, a dickhead. Merry opened the milk to check and see if any was there and then put the carton back in the fridge again because she knew that when Michael came home from school today he would be stoned out of his mind, forget that there was no milk, and try to make cereal again.   
“Mer, there’s eggs.” Their mother tried to shove the pan in her direction while Pat’s slimy lips attack her neck. Merry crinkles her nose.   
“Mum, I hate eggs.” She informs her clearly busy mother.   
“Well,” Her mother says between kisses, “They’re Patrick’s favorite, so I thought we could have them now.” Merry let out a light laugh and then made quite a crude gesture behind her mother’s back when she wasn’t looking. Michael snorted into his cereal bowl.   
“Oh Michael,” His mother chided. “I do wish you would shower every once in a while, and clean your clothes.”  
“That’s wishing for a miracle.” Merry said with a quirk of a smile.  
“Kid,” Pat said as he gazed at Michael, his eyes slightly unfocused, “When I was your age, I was a good kid, I was, I didn’t do this partying or nothin, just me and my old man goin and doin crosswords, straight A’s, that was me. And theres you, you aren’t goin to do nothin with your life. Cause you don’t ever do nothin.” Michael’s mother began to kiss Pat again, ignoring the fact that her son had just been told that he was never going to do anything with his life. A car horn honked outside.   
“That’s for me.” He said, though it was clear that nobody cared.   
“Tell Cal I say hi.” Merry said.   
“I won’t.” Michael promised as he headed out the door.   
Michael pushed open the heavy door and walked down to the street where Calum’s busted red convertible currently is residing on half of the curb. The license plate (though it should have) hasn’t been changed in years, grime coated the outside of the car, and one of the mirrors had fallen completely off. Not to mention the smokey haze that already filled the car. Luke rolled down the passenger side window; a joint perched in his nimble fingers. It was a Wednesday, which meant Luke got shotgun. Luke got shotgun three of the five days of school and Michael got the other two days, Ashton, because he was new, and also afraid to be in the front seat with Calum driving, always sat in the back. Though it would be safer to be in the front in a typical car, Michael wasn’t exactly sure if Calum even had airbags anymore.  
“Get in fucker!” Luke yelled to Michael, wheezing out a laugh through the smoke. Michael grinned and carefully opened his door, you had to be careful with this door because the handle was falling off and was barely duct-taped on. Michael eased himself into his seat and nodded at Ashton who still looked panic-stricken from the latest joyride Calum had taken to Michael’s house. His hand was gripping the door so hard his knuckles where white. Michael just laughed at him. Calum passed back a joint, which Ashton recoiled from and Michael took, inhaling happily. All was well.   
Michael strolled leisurely through the nearly empty hallway. None of his friends were in sight yet, he knew that Calum was making out with Jess in their usual place under the bleachers, Ashton was too much of a pussy to skip class, and because it was Luke’s English period, Luke was with Misty because that was the only class he had with her. Michael could just picture them now, Luke nervously trying to find ways to talk to her and blushing whenever she spoke, his fingers shaking as he planned to drop his pencil under her chair for the up-teenth time. He wondered where Kaylee was, perhaps in class, but she could be anywhere and nowhere all at once sometimes.   
Michael glanced down the hallway to see if anyone was coming, and when there was no one in sight he crossed the hall in several quick strides, scuffed sneakers hitting the floor and announcing happily what he was about to do. Michael’s fingers closed around the door handle to the janitor’s closet and swung it open and closed it hurriedly, before anyone saw, a rush of adrenaline running through his veins. Before he could even blink her lips molded softly into his own. A shudder wracked through Michael’s body and even the tips of his fingers and toes buzzed. He let a smile slip through the kiss. Nothing was more exhilarating. Nothing he had ever taken, not spliff, or acid, or pills, could compare to this. They kissed for a long time and his fingers lightly brushed her slim waist as his lips attacked her neck. She smelled amazing. God. He inhaled heavily and she giggled in the darkness. The bell chimed, waking them both up from their brief fever dream.   
Arabella pressed one more kiss to his lips, more tender than usual, before she slipped past him and out the door.   
Michael touched his lips softly while gazing at the blank piece of paper in front of him. The lines were blurring together and his mind felt fuzzy and it had nothing to do with the pot. He pressed the tip of his pen to the paper; he didn’t know what to write, in fact, he didn’t even remember the assignment. But that didn’t matter at this moment, because all he was concentrating on was the hushed whispers of Arabella and her boyfriend Mark. Mark, or Marcus, was the captain of the football team and was a straight A student. With his quaffed hair and charming smile, he was perfectly crushable. But Arabella had him wrapped around her pinky finger. That was the problem, he was boring, and Arabella had wanted something new and exciting, and she had settled on Michael.  
Arabella knew that Michael wouldn’t measure up to anything, that he wasn’t boyfriend material, but he was fun. She liked the rush he gave her when his lips were on her own, his fingers barely grazing her hips and sending tingles down her spine. It was much different from making out with Mark in her basement with his sweaty hands squeezing her boobs over her shirt and his slimy tongue attacking the inside of her mouth. Michael was a great kisser, and Mark was a horrible one, which was funny, Michael smoked all the time and was a waste of space, and Mark was amazing at everything, well, almost everything. He could learn a few tricks from Michael in the kissing department.   
Michael could hear them arguing in hushed tones in the back of the room. Something about Kelsey, the class slut, Mark apparently was a little to close for comfort to her this morning and Arabella wasn’t having any of it.   
“Stop being so horrible.” She whispered out, her voice sounded broken.   
“Stop being such a bitch.” He hissed out. Michael’s hand clenched around the pen, blood pumping through his veins. Arabella’s hand hit the air and the teacher finally glanced their way.   
“Ms. Stone?” Her voice drawled.   
“I’m not feeling very well.” Arabella whispered, “Can I please go to the nurse?”   
“Yes Ms. Stone.” The teacher responded pleasantly, she liked Arabella. Michael watched her disappear from the room, her skirt swishing out of sight as she closed the door behind her with her perfectly pink-polished nails.   
“Mr. Clifford?” The teacher asked. Michael gazed upward.   
“Yeah?” He said, hoping it was the right answer, judging by the titter that ensued from the class, it wasn’t.   
“What I asked was how was your assignment coming, but seeing as you haven’t written anything, I do believe “yeah” is an appropriate answer.” This ensured another round of giggles from the class. The teacher smiled waspishly.   
“Can I use the bathroom?” Michael asked, his throat felt thick and his eyes stung.   
“Of course Mr. Clifford.” The teacher said with a laugh. Michael stood up and hurried away from the suffocating laughter of the class. He entered the hallway and it was empty, his legs lead him to the doors to the school and he pushed, they gave way.   
Michael took a few steps outside when he simultaneously realized that 1. There was no way for him to get home, and 2. Arabella was standing with her back to him. As he approached her he realized that her shoulders were shaking and that she was fumbling with a lighter to light the cigarette in-between her lips (god she really had to stop smoking). It didn’t take a genius to realize she was crying.   
“Here,” Michael said he took it gently from her lips and put it between his, lighting it with a steady hand before taking a long puff and handing it back to her. She took it back with her dainty fingers and put it between her pink plump lips. Michael wanted so badly to hold her. He reached out his arm to place on her shoulder but she moved away from him.   
“No Michael.” She scolded, he voice sounded sad and cold and smoke slipped from her lips and clouded around her.   
“Why not?” He wondered aloud, but her eyes told the truth. “Because I’m me. I can’t be there for the perfect Arabella because I’m me, and I’m useless, and I’m not the captain of the football team and all I do is get wasted. Because I’m stupid and I can’t even do one English assignment. Because I’m never going to amount to anything.” He whispered the last part coldly. Arabella’s eyes were swimming with tears now.   
“Well..” She started to say but Michael cut her off.  
“Save it.” He hissed. “What ever this was, it’s finished now. I can’t believe I even liked you.” He turned on his heel and sped away as fast as his legs could carry him. She made no move to follow him at all. Michael found a nearby playground and sank into one of the only swings that was still intact and not splattered by bird shit. The swing sank several inches when he sat down in it, the rusty chain creaking.   
He sat there for what felt like a few moments when a pair of converse-clad feet appeared in front of him, he let his eyes gaze up the tan legs and perfectly matched outfit to the blue eyed girl gazing at him woefully.   
“Ah young love.” Kaylee trilled, “So sad when it doesn’t work out.” She said. Michael swallowed a lump in his throat.   
“Ha ha.” He said, like usual Kaylee always seemed to know what he was thinking.   
“You left this at my house the last time we played kings.” She said, pressing a piece of paper into his hand. He unfolded it to see his own hasty scrawl, the words seemed to fold on top of one another, weaving a beautiful story.   
“You were so far in the zone you missed 7’s and 4’s the whole game. But it was probably worth it; that’s some Shakespeare shit right there.” Kaylee said with a smile. Michael rolled his eyes at her.   
“I was wasted.” He said.   
“You’re always wasted.” Was all Kaylee said before she left him sitting there as if she had never been there at all. If not for the paper, she could have been a figment of his imagination.  
When Michael re-entered the English room the class tittered again, less politely this time. Mark’s arm was not slung about Arabella’s shoulders, though she was sitting next to him, looking coolly composed, she didn’t make eye contact with Michael.   
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to read something to you.” Michael told the class and the equally surprised teacher. Arabella watched him wearily as he unfolded the paper yet again and let his tongue trip over the words he had written.   
“I chose to write about love, that’s an emotion right?” He asked the teacher, referring to the lesson. She nodded, surveying him with precaution, as if he was actually worth her time.  
Love  
By Me, Michael Clifford  
First I thought love was an A on a test  
I ran home to show my mother  
She tacked it to the fridge   
And I smiled through my extra ice cream that night  
Then I thought love was a newly rolled blunt  
Crisp and pressed   
With so much promise  
That clouds away the shouting from the kitchen  
There are no more papers on the fridge anymore  
Then I thought love was whiskey  
It burns your throat   
And fogs your vision  
So you don’t have to see that your father isn’t there anymore  
And you don’t have to see your mother kissing yet another sleazy man  
That promised he would sculpt her  
And that she was his latest inspiration  
But I met a girl  
She doesn’t make me forget all of the horrible things that have happened  
She helps me remember  
She makes life clearer  
And even though I try to escape her  
I can’t   
Because she is the only thing I truly love  
And I hate her for that

The bell punctuates the ending of Michael’s poem and the class spills out, the teacher calls to Michael but he ignores her, and walks out the door. Calum waves to him from the car and he starts to make his way through the bunched up students towards him, but someone is calling his name. Michael turns on his heel and sees Arabella sprinting towards him as fast as her high-heel clad feet could carry her. Michael attempts to smoother the smile blossoming on his cheeks at the sight of her.   
“Hey.” She whispers out. “Mark and I broke up, could I trouble you for company on the way home?” She asked. Calum honked his car horn impatiently. Michael nodded slowly at first and then faster.   
“Sure.” He said.   
“COME ON!” Cal yelled at Michael who gazed back at Arabella.   
“I’m walking today mate!” He called back to Calum who proceeded to flip him off and then laugh. Luke saluted him and Ashton smiled as much as he could through his grimace as Calum launched away from the curb, tires squealing, almost tearing over a group of scantily-clad first years.   
Which is how Michael found himself on the floor of the kitchen smoking a joint with the most beautiful girl he had ever had the pleasure of meeting.   
“I’m hungry,” Arabella said with a smile. “Shall I order pizza?” Michael nodded.   
“I’ll get the milk.” He said, “You must be thirsty too.” Arabella nodded, relishing the gleam of happiness Michael had in his eyes when he looked at her. It was a completely different look from the one Mark gave her, his eyes used to slide up her legs and rest a little too long at her chest. Michael just looked at all of her as a whole with warm eyes. Michael pulled himself off of the floor, almost tripping over himself and both of them giggled stupidly as Michael pulled open the fridge door.   
“There’s no milk,” Michael said as he inspected the empty carton, “I could have sworn there was some this morning.”


End file.
